The 5th House
by bluntstix
Summary: When the Hero of Oakvale foolishly dons The Mask of Blades, the Jack begins his takeover of Albion. However, whilst walking through Snowspire, he awakens to find himself... on a bench. How will the dreaded Jack deal with rising through this world? Will he ever return to The Void? Or will he tear it into this reality? Only The Spire knows. Rated M for Drugs, and Gore. no pairings


Death was not something The Jack of Blades had anticipated. Nor was the greed and megalomania of The Hero who had felled him moments prior. After the Hero had slain the Jack possessed dragon beyond the Bronze Gate, he had foolishly let his lust for power get the better of him.

 _"_ _Wear me..."_ the mask whispered. _"Wear me…. And even Gods will envy your power..."_

The Hero snorted. He was already powerful enough. He had the Archon's battle armor from his journey in the Necropolis, took the Sword of Aeons from Jack, although regrettably at the cost of his sister Theresa, and had become the wealthiest, and most feared person to ever walk Albion. He backpedaled on his thought. More power than even a god?

"What are you doing?! Destroy the mask!"

He looked back to see Scythe yelling at him to destroy the ceramic monstrosity.

Unfortunately for him, his words fell on deaf ears. The Hero looked back at the mask, Its intricate gold carvings dancing across the surface of it. He turned it over in his hand to see a dark, nearly vantablack abyss on the other side.

" _Wear me, and you shall be…..."_

Silence. The mask had taken an irritatingly long break in conveying its message.

"I shall be what?!" The Hero snarled. He demanded to know. Nobody ever dared to keep a secret from the Ghoul of Albion, not even Briar Rose, whose blabbering mouth is what caused her rather abrupt demise.

 _"_ _Immortal….."_

"You fool! Cast the mask away now!" Scythe demanded. The Hero laughed as he raised it to his dark and cracked face. As soon as he heard 'immortal', it was all over. He had decided to wear the mask. Immortality would be his greatest benefactor. After all, he was nearly seventy. His body was worn out.

As the mask finally planted against his face, he began to convulse. Scythe's decomposing face paled. "NO! YOU FOOL! YOU'VE KILLED US ALL" Scythe yelled, baring his nearly non-existent teeth. Scythe knew this was the end. Maybe in his younger days as William Black, he would have been able to combat the monster. But now, he was old. Millenia past his prime, the aftermath of the corruption plague, and essentially a walking corpse. He abruptly disappeared to a location unknown.

After what seemed like hours, the newly reborn Jack finally stilled, he regained his balance, and raised his arms in triumph, and laughed. "I told you I couldn't be killed so easily, Hero!" He began to think. Think of what was to come, what terror he could inflict now that his biggest thorn had been removed from his side, and conveniently molded to his will. He merely chuckled. He walked over to his old clothing and armor. He took the Archon's Battle armor off quickly, ridding himself of his Enemy's creation. He picked up his old armor, the dark metal that plated the set simply resonated evil will. He put it on, although had to make a few adjustments, seeing as the Hero's body wasn't as scrawny or weak as his previous host. He snapped a finger, and the metal seemed to mold and shift to fit his new body.

He dawned the armor. He still felt incomplete. He looked back to see the red cloth that made his hood. He picked it up, tightened the buckles on his arm, and pinned the cloth together to make his infamous crimson hood. He was himself once more, but stronger, faster, and better.

==_=-+= Line Break =+-=_==

As The Jack walked through the Frozen forest of what was once the Old Kingdom village of Snowspire, he noticed his vision began to darken. "What…. Is.. ughh….." He then realized that the fatigue in his new host had not yet been treated. Had this hero ever slept in his life? Moments later he dropped like a rock.

When The Jack arose, he found himself in The Void… or rather what he thought was The Void. "The Void… How convenient, I've been meaning to-" He stopped, and looked around. Something was wrong. No castles awaited him, no minions arrived to assist him, and strangest of all, it felt empty. Not in the usual sense of The Void. This realm seemed darker. As he looked into the nothingness, he could hear screams. Screams of pain, and suffering. Although it did not affect him. It certainly wasn't familiar. His vision began to darken once more, but not before hearing a voice invade his mind.

" **YoU aRE FiNIShed with ALbIOn. You sHaLl SERve yOUR puRPose IN ANother woRLD**."

Before he passed out, he uttered one last word.

"Skorm?"


End file.
